Sunday, August 25, 2019

percentages

we have a weekend habit
that i'm inclined to keep
looking South
 we park a block up
(seeking summer shade)
pull out your anatomy book...i believe these teeth are in order!
 then stroll down South Elm -
peer in the soon-to-be bowling alley bar
to see if they've started renovations,
cross the street at Horigan's,
linger in front of the cat cafe to watch the windowsill tabbies
(a thick glass between my nose and them),
feel a distinct warm&fuzzy feeling
as we meander past Elsewhere*,
and follow the other folks with our same
weekend habit
(*still my favotie place in town)
 to Chez Genese,
where we (later today than usual)
put our name on the waiting list
& reverse stroll back up the street
 i have a couple of favorite side streets downtown,
and Lewis Street is my favorite of favorites.
i am especially enamored of the old storefronts
along the north side of the street,
with their high stone curbs and steps,
worn from more than a century of shoes.
sidewalk conversation this morning,
while we waited for our table
at Chez Genese,
led to an invitation to ascend these stairs
& (carefully - oh, my) see the remains of a
red-light hotel (the ritz)
which was above our tour guide's*
lock&key shop
(which was his father's before him,
*Jim Simpson
 the building is almost imminently
(there is relief as he says this)
to a "local lady lawyer"
 the wooden floors feel precarious,
with permanent - and large - indentations
from the pre-hotel sock factory machines
(Oak Hill Hosiery closed - or moved -
once it was clear heavy machinery was untenable
above the heads of the first-floor tenants)
Storage Room

Office, this way

Please Vacate Lobby at 10:30pm

downtown train

skyward, on the outside,
i feel on more solid ground
 the doors have always been my favorite,
original to the the building (1889 or 1890 or 1891,
depending on your source).
fire code, he tells us, insists that doors open out,
into the street;
so this PUSH will disappear.
 with conditioned air, fire code, and
the multitude of other liabilities,
these doors will surely not remain.

 likely the sign pre-dates the business
Dixie Lock & Key
and made it easy to decide,
back in 1940.
now, not so much.

with good timing,
our table is ready
 & we already know
what we will order



we looked at the forecast
with optimism
that morning,
heading out of town
to see college-residing sons.

twenty percent
change of rain

perhaps we misread

for it was
surely
one.hundred.percent
all
day
long

so we
waited out the rain,
checking radar
for a chance
to dash to the car
(he, not me
with my summer sandals)

driving rain,
while driving in the rain,
stretched the length
of the highway.

go south,
it seemed -
but the rain followed us there,
too.

a deceptive respite
as we parked the car.
a-ha, we have come south enough!

we had tickets
& enjoyed the play
but the rain
remained.

grabbed the blue boy
(a stone's throw away)
& drove to the red boy
to see his new place

and celebrate his
twenty-second
(yes!)
birthday,
with enough pizza left
for each to take -
white pizza for the blue;
red pizza for the red.

my two college guys

younger brother's happy birthday gift ... fixing youtube tv access!
the percentages were wrong,
but it worked out
(and i didn't ruin my summer sandals).

Saturday, August 3, 2019

felled

i've been as a scavenger
in my own backyard
 picking through the felled tree
over the past several weeks
 pouncing upon fireplace-sized pieces
and hoarding them for winter
 but the massive trunk
defies my efforts
 it was dying from the outside
 and now a purple fungus
(oh, so beautiful)
is creeping towards its heart
 while scallop shells
prickle its skin
 nature finds every opportunity
to circle back around
 returning to an earthy equilibrium
 i admire the rainbowed decay,
the reclaiming
 fairy forests
frilled parasols
blooming


on a felled tree

young things

first friday
hot august
young things

first young thing found
at Elsewhere
 art school
summer internship
 sheltered under the stairs,
a friend's daughter

second young thing
found at
Mindful Supply Co.
warbling her tunes
and others'
her mother watched, smiled

they are such young things
with fire in their hearts